


take the stars, they belong to you

by canvases (orphan_account)



Series: touched by magic [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Fantasy, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Roommates, welcome to rarepair hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 02:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7247836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/canvases
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Yamagata seems to lose at least one thing on a day-to-day basis, his phone being the most frequent of all, and he probably stops by the lost-and-found desk twice a day.</p>
  <p>It’s only by pure luck that Kawanishi is good at finding things.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	take the stars, they belong to you

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of a life raft (a lovingly assembled one, though) than a ship, but you’re more than welcome to hop aboard!
> 
> Yamagata’s current concern is that he loses his phone so often, and from there, I started to develop the headcanon that Kawanishi - who’s strangely good at finding things - is the only one patient enough to help him every single time.

“So, page sixty-three,” Shirabu says, tracing a finger along the lines of the open textbook, mouthing the words silently, before continuing, “how did people collect moonbeams in the medieval times?”

“I have no idea,” Kawanishi says in reply, receiving a groan as his supposed best friend groans and buries his head in his hands. “It’s true, Kenjirou. I really don’t.”

“You’re going to fail,” Shirabu huffs, opening the book again, thumbing through the dog-eared pages. “It says here that people used to harvest moonbeams through rice fields, because the rays often get tangled in the golden grains every— _Taichi are you listening to me?_ ”

“Not really.”

Shirabu’s hands flutter about, like he’s contemplating tossing the remarkably thick textbook at his face, or leaving the room entirely. He sighs, instead, the classical music in the background seemingly calming him down, if only slightly. “You’re going to fail this test,” he remarks. “Fine, how did people harvest stardust, then?”

Kawanishi hums along to the mildly familiar tune, since it’s been playing on loop for quite a while, now. “Lots of ways. In the soil, after a meteor shower. Near a dreamcatcher, after a nightmare, sometimes.”

Shirabu sighs in relief for the first time in three hours. “You might get a few points, after all.”

The door opens, and they both hear it slam against the wall, and Kawanishi expects it to be his roommate – because it’s either that or a horrible thief – who he has, apparently gotten stuck with, despite him being a year above him due to a lack of proper dorm arrangements.

He leans back on his chair and calls out, softly, “Yamagata-san?”

He hears the door close, gently this time, and said roommate emerges. “Oh, hi. Sorry to disturb you, or whatever, but have you seen my phone?”

Shirabu raises his eyebrows slightly, before glancing at the ticking clock on the wall and getting up, nodding politely. “Ah, I should be going. Sorry, Yamagata-san. Oh, and Taichi, do your homework.”

“Semi-san is rubbing off of you,” Kawanishi remarks, trying not to smile as Shirabu rolls his eyes. “Thanks, I guess. See you tomorrow.”

As Shirabu is tying his shoelaces, Kawanishi turns to Yamagata. “Sorry, uh – I haven’t?”

Yamagata runs his hands through his hair, looking a bit frustrated. “Okay, thanks. I’ve been looking for it all day now. My mom’s gonna kill me if I don’t call.”

Kawanishi blinks and shifts slightly, pursing his lips together. _This is probably a bad idea, don’t_ – “Ah, I can help you look for it, I guess.”

Yamagata grins, and Kawanishi notices the way his teeth are a bit crooked, in a barely-noticeable way, and that one side of his mouth tugs upwards a bit more than his other when he smiles. “Really? Thanks, uh, I’ve checked almost everywhere – ”

“Yamagata-san,” Kawanishi says, a bit abruptly, “did you even bring your phone out of this dorm today?”

Yamagata blinks. “Uh, I’m not really sure?”

Kawanishi presses his lips together – most people would think he was contemplating on something, but it’s really just his way of smiling – and gestures to Yamagata’s bed. “Check under your pillow, maybe.”

Yamagata raises an eyebrow, but lifts the orange goldfish-patterned pillow and yells, “Finally!”

“I take it I was right?” Kawanishi says, tilting his head, looking vaguely amused.

Yamagata shoots him a thumbs up. “Yeah, you were! Thanks a lot, by the way.”

Kawanishi shrugs one shoulder and turns back to his homework. “Yeah,” he says quietly, flipping through the pages and eyeing the small notes he made in pencil during class. “Don’t mention it.”

  
//

  
“…Is everything alright?”

Yamagata glances up from where he’s sitting on his bed, several items (mostly charms and several textbooks covered in gift-wrap and a wrinkled essay) scattered next to him, his bag on his lap. “Yeah, I just can’t find my phone anywhere.”

Kawanishi tilts his head, tapping a finger against his elbow. “Uh, did you have any classes today?”

“One in the morning, one this afternoon,” Yamagata nods to himself, before shaking his head, “but I didn’t bring it then.”

Kawanishi blinks and thinks for a few seconds. “Have you been to anyone else’s dorm today?”

“Yeah, I went to Reon’s because – oh shit, of course.”

  
//

  
“Kawanishi, sorry, have you seen my phone?”

He glances up from the constellations map he’s studying; a deep blue sheet of shiny paper littered with stars, connected by lines that don’t really exist.

He smiles – his rare smile, the one where the corners of his lips actually quirk upwards – briefly, because it’s gone as quick as it came, gesturing to the charging phone plugged into the socket between their beds, partially obscured by a backpack and several colourful pillows that tumbled off of Yamagata’s bed at some point.

Yamagata smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it,” he laughs, shaking his head at his own ridiculousness.

 _Neither can I_ , Kawanishi thinks, hiding another smile behind the crinkling sheet of paper, wondering why he’s smiling so often these days.

 

  
//

  
“You really like astronomy, huh?”

Kawanishi glances up from his little experiment, a textbook open to his left, fluttering in the little gusts of breeze that come in through the window, accompanied by a birdsong. There’s a jar of stardust to his right and a vial of sunlight essence between his curled fingers.

He shrugs. “It’s part of my major, so, yeah, I guess.”

Yamagata chuckles, and Kawanishi lifts his eyebrows. “Sorry, it’s just – you say ‘I guess’ a lot, don’t you?”

Kawanishi shrugs one shoulder, fiddling with the corkscrew of the vial he’s holding. “I mean, it just feels weird not to add it. I don’t like being a hundred percent sure of anything.”

“Huh. That’s pretty insightful.”

Kawanishi can’t see the look on his face because he’s staring at the desk to hide a smile threatening to tug at the corners of his lips. “I guess.”

 

  
//

  
“Do you see any constellations?”

Kawanishi pries his eyes away from the night sky, the cool evening breeze kissing his cheek with the window open. “No,” he replies. “Light pollution. We’re not in the right place, either.”

“Ah,” Yamagata says, nodding, before staring out the window, eyes gleaming in the starlight as he points, tracing something against the glass. His fingers are calloused from strumming guitar strings. “But, look, over there, if you put those together it kind of looks like a smiley face.”

Kawanishi raises an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. “If you look at it from this angle, then yeah.”

Yamagata laughs, and Kawanishi decides that it sounds a lot like music.

  
//

  
A month or two passes, and all of a sudden it’s routine.

Yamagata seems to lose at least one thing on a day-to-day basis, his phone being the most frequent of all, and he probably stops by the lost-and-found desk twice a day.

It’s only by pure luck that Kawanishi is good at finding things.

  
Sometimes, Kawanishi will walk into their shared dorm with his hands in the pockets of his jeans to see Yamagata searching for something again, and ask him several questions before the lightbulb clicks.

Sometimes, they’ll look for it together, peering underneath blankets and tossing pillows aside, before Kawanishi would suggest for him to check in his backpack, maybe, or his pocket, or – I don’t know, the charger over there?

Sometimes, Yamagata would stroll in, ask, “Kawanishi, have you seen my – ” and he wouldn’t be able to finish when the younger holds out the phone without glancing up from whatever he’s doing and says, quietly, “Here you go, Yamagata-san.”

  
Actually, Kawanishi wouldn’t say ‘all of a sudden’. That would be implying that it came almost nowhere. Really, it feels oddly natural, like they’ve been doing it all along.

How sentimental.

 

//

 

  
One day, Kawanishi’s questions don’t connect the stars and they’ve turned the apartment upside-down like a hurricane and they still can’t find it.

Yamagata is a bit stressed and frustrated at this point, because he has some important project notes in it, and said project is due in several days and apparently takes a lot of time.

“What about Kenjirou and Semi-san’s apartment?” Kawanishi suggests, careful to keep his tone even, calming, the same one he used when Shirabu got stressed back in highschool, with the weight of exams and projects tumbling down on him like stacks of paper. “Do you think it’s there?”

“Doubtful,” Yamagata says, his chuckle lacking a bit of it’s usual enthusiasm. “I haven’t been there since last week.”

“Okay,” Kawanishi says softly, “okay.”

They’d found Yamagata’s phone in so many places, before: on the floor of the second stall in the boy’s bathroom. In Bokuto’s room, the floor above them (“Hey, hey, hey! So this is yours?”) In Tendou and Ushijima’s room, in an apartment, a twenty to fifteen-minute walk away (“…How did this get here?” “I don’t know, Satori, I don’t know.”) In one of the Alchemy labs (“You don’t even take this class, Yamagata-san.” “I know!”)

Kawanishi runs a list through his head, checking and double-checking, wondering where on Earth it disappeared to this time.

Everyone on the floor – in the whole dorm – knows how often Yamagata loses his phone, they’re all good people, they’d return it if they found it.

Yamagata had several classes, and he’d checked all of them. He’d apparently looked through all of the halls he walked through, too.

“I regret not transferring it onto my notebook sooner.”

Kawanishi glances at Yamagata and clicks his tongue, wondering for a second why and when and how he managed to care for someone and something this much. Whatever happened to his usual bored apathy? To the usual detached manner of handling most people?

“Don’t say that,” he mutters, kicking aside a throw pillow. “We’ll find it soon.”

Yamagata laughs, and Kawanishi stares. Yamagata sits upright and grins. “You didn’t say ‘I guess’.”

Kawanishi blinks, realising that belatedly. Oh, he hadn’t noticed that. He shrugs one shoulder. “I guess it’s fine to be confident once in awhile.”

 

  
//

 

  
It hits him like a freight train.

“Yamagata-san,” he says, “you play the guitar, right? You haven’t, say, been to any of the music rooms today?”

His roommate’s eyebrows furrow. “I don’t think so? I mean, I told you everything that happened today, I don’t really remember doing that.”

Kawanishi purses his lips in a wry smile. “You’re really forgetful, though?” he says. “Ah, just check, anyway.”

Yamagata’s quiet for several more seconds, before he gets up abruptly, then – “Ah shit, I’m so stupid, _of course_ I did. Kawanishi, what would I do without you?” He immediately goes, in such a hurry that he forgets to shut the door behind him.

He laughs quietly in response. “I wouldn’t want to know,” he murmurs.

 

  
//

 

  
“Have you ever found it annoying?”

Kawanishi glances over his shoulder, where Yamagata is laying on his bed, his headphones around his neck but connected to his phone nonetheless, some kind of new song playing. “What do you mean?” he asks, scrawling something down on his notebook.

“How I keep losing my phone, I guess? And that I somehow roped you into finding it with me?”

Kawanishi laughs quietly, and Yamagata looks mildly surprised, considering he’s never heard him laugh before (very few people have.) “Not really, no. It’s kind of…” he purses his lips, “fun, I guess, sometimes.”

“My old roommate just found it annoying. He never really helped me.”

Kawanishi shrugs. “It’s not. To me, at least. I like finding things, I think. It’s only a coincidence that you lose stuff a lot.”

Yamagata chuckles, the song around his neck ending and switching into another one. “Right? It must’ve been fate, then.” Kawanishi merely shrugs in response, and the sound of pen scratching against paper and subtle music switching blends into their routine.

 


End file.
